The Raven
by shortcircuitify
Summary: After the events of the Wild Hunt, the Fox and the Wolf disappearing to faraway Kovir, and Ciri finding her place as Empress, Yennefer tries to find her own place in what is left of her world. Edited & updated


"Love you," His lips were hot against her neck, and she arched into his touch. Her stomach fluttered from his words and touch, and she languidly opened her eyes to see the Wolf that had eluded her for so long.

His eyes were red, dark and hungry. She started at the sight, and pulled away from him. _Those_ weren't the eyes she had imagined for so long…

"What's the matter, Yen?" His voice was hard and raspy, nothing like what she remembered, but she couldn't speak, words eluding her at his morphed appearance. His jaw and face contorted in weird forms while he spoke, and she winced.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" His face distorted, billowy and whispy and _wrong._ He looked almost like – no, he couldn't –

"The magick's gone – _remember_?" He whispered in her ear, and he was too close for comfort and she could only shake her head, wishing for him to be gone and not, all at the same time –

Fire. No, red hair. Flowing like fire, hot to the touch. Geralt stood before her, a head of fiery locks spread across his chest, and he stooped down to kiss the woman in his arms. His eyes – full of happiness and love and – _magick._

He looked over the woman's shoulder to stare directly at her – his eyes cold and sunken, before taking the woman with fiery hair by the hand and leading her away. Far, far away, into a light that blinded Yennefer, far into the horizon where she could not reach. Yen tried to scream, to call out to him - she really did - but no sounds came out, and she crumpled to her knees.

Yennefer woke with a start, gasping for air, her skin and shift covered in a layer of hot sweat. She quickly pushed the sheets of her bed away from herself before wiping her cheeks where old and fresh tears left their clean tracks. She whimpered in disgust, before furiously rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Damn _Geralt,_ " she hissed quietly. He was lucky that he had decided to live somewhere as far as Kovir – far away enough that she couldn't spite him with her magick and too far away for her to bother to chase after him. _Damn Witchers, all of them._

She took a deep breath before releasing it into the cool Vizima air, trying to stop the flow of endless tears that were streaming down her face.

 _Not the first nightmare, not the last nightmare,_ she reminded herself, but it didn't make her feel any better, and her shoulders slumped in defeat over the salty tears that refused to let up. It was, after all, a relief that she had lifted the Djinn's curse. This way she was certain that Geralt did not love – did not feel anything - for her, in all their years together. Fates entwined, but never meant to join. Her heart ached, and she rubbed her chest over it with her palm in hopes of soothing the constant pain. It was a relief, right?

She wasn't so sure anymore, and she hated how weak she had become. She was Yennefer of Vengerberg! Feared among men, renowned as a sorceress never to be crossed, and yet she was weeping like a child over a stolen toy.

She stretched languidly, and stood up, walking over to the open window of the suite Emreis had appointed to her when she had returned to the Capital. She looked down into the castle courtyard, watching late sleepers and early wakers bustle about for the morning to come.

She had been gone for far too long. She hadn't even told Ciri she was leaving, but once the White Frost was stopped, and Geralt was _gone_ and Ciri was called back to Nilfgaard, she simply… _awayed._

She didn't know how he had found her in those first few months, but Emreis had sent a letter to her – letting her know that if she ever wished to return to the Empire, he would have a spot open for her at court. _To be close to Ciri,_ it had read, and she had burned the letter in her fist. She assumed Phillipa had helped Emreis track her down, so she did not linger, and continued on a journey without rest, and without purpose.

She had tread a path through the Northern Realms, far from the grasp of Emreis's fist, and far from the lands of Kovir, beyond the mountains. She stayed in inns, watched people pass, and mother's playing with their children.

She always cringed seeing them, no matter how much she tried not to, a surge of jealousy coursing through her while she rubbed her palm against the flat of her stomach.

 _Stupid Djinns._

She, after a time, had found herself in Kaedwen's largest court in Ard Carraigh, slipping through the crowd of nameless faces and looking for a distraction for herself before she left again. Instead she had found Keira Mentz – a proud sorceress if she had ever seen one, but also brilliant in her craft. Keira, with her sharp tongue, had amused Yennefer to no end far into the night, and she had almost thought to stay in the capital city for a while, if only to learn the finer points of alchemy from the woman.

But then Yennefer remembered that Keira had Lambert trailing behind her every movement like a lost puppy, and the moment the Witcher had seen _Yennefer, of all people!_ he took the opportunity to bite into her flesh and whine about the great White Wolf.

Keira had tried to calm the agitated ( _always_ agitated) puppy, but to no avail. Not that Yennefer couldn't take his barbed words – she had dealt with much worse, even from him, but if she could avoid the man, she would. Her journey was to find peace, not be annoyed by Lambert. So she was off in the morning, promising Keira that they would meet again one day to swap secrets without further interruption.

And so she travelled similarly throughout the Northern Realms, passing through Redania the briefest, with Radovids stray loyalists stalking the streets closely for any lingering magick users and persons. The country was beautiful, but Yennefer mostly only saw dirty streets and side-roads in Oxenfurt, hiding as much as she could, so there was nothing holding her there before she continued in her travels.

She ended off in Skellige, where the people were crass and the ale flowed freely, and although she never drank much alcohol she tried a sip of the famous Skellige brew, if only for the experience. She avoided the Druids, although she wished she could visit the great Oak that blossomed so beautifully throughout the year, and travelled by sea during the day, making her way down from Kaer Trolde to Harviken, before travelling on foot through the bogs of Velen back to White Orchard.

The plains were dusted with the first falling of snow when she arrived. Had it been a year already?

She rented a room at the local inn for a month, retracing the path that Geralt had made clear when he first came through, searching for her with the trace of lilac and gooseberries all that was left in her wake; the dead Griffith's nest, the pond where she found an old camp with materials of what she could only assume made bombs. She allowed herself a little smile, imagining a little Ciri and him throwing the infamous Witcher 'fishing gear' into the lake, laughing like idiots.

She rubbed her stomach unconsciously once more. She cursed herself, but no matter how often she reminded herself that Djinns were dangerous and not worth their trouble, she couldn't help but feel the emptiness her womb held.

The air had a bite to it, and she savored the wind that tugged on her shawl as she made her way back to White Orchard proper, night descending on the plains making the sky glow a brilliant shade of orange, mixed with pink.

The villagers were gathered outside the inn, lanterns filled with glowing flames in the tight grasps of all the local children while their parents watched the sky above. Yennefer slunk into the shadows beneath the overhang of one of the nearby houses, watching that as the last of the sun descended over the horizon, the villagers cheered and clapped with the first of the stars peeking out. The children let the lanterns fly away into the wind at their parent's insistence, swirling together with the snow into a flurry of orange and white.

The children clapped and cheered as the local musicians took up a tune that had the rest of the villagers dancing. A young man caught Yennefer standing away from the festivities, and tried pulling her into the crowd of bodies twisting and moving together in a mosaic. She allowed herself to be pulled forward, giving the man a small and timid smile which he returned with a wicked grin.

You may say what you want about the Northern Realms, but their men were nothing if not generous.

She was gone in the morning; a pair of golden eyes replacing the pair of hazel that had awakened next to her.

She had returned to Vizima within the week, surprising not only Emreis, but Philippa as well.

"I didn't expect you to actually take up the offer, you know," Philippa had told her, introducing her to her new suite. Not as extravagant as the room Philippa now had, as Advisor to the Emperor, but it was still much too gaudy for Yennefer's taste.

"Well, after such a warm invitation, how could I refuse?" Yennefer shot back, unpacking the various trunks she had filled to the brim with magickal gadgets.

"It's just that after Geralt ran off with Triss, I thought none of us would ever see you again. You know, losing the man you love and all. Don't try to deny it, we all know it's true. It wasn't exactly _easy_ to track your movements, it was if you were a dog on a wild chase," Yennefer turned to her, and Philippa shrugged innocently.

Yennefer placed her hands on her hips, "Thank you for your reassurances, Philippa. Please, do kiss Emreis's ass next time you see him, for me."

Philippa's laugh reverberated down the hall as she sauntered off, followed closely by Ciri's voice, "Yennefer?"

She turned just in time to see Ciri running down the hall to her room, stopping her momentum by slamming into Yen's open door and grinning like she had just killed her own Chort.

"Yen! You're back!"

All of sudden, the weight lifted from her heart, and she opened her arms wide, Ciri slamming into her in a sloppy hug and almost toppling them both over, "Ciri!"

She smoothed down her hair, like when Ciri was still just a child, and she pulled away enough to look at Yen's face.

"Where were you?"

"Oh, you know, _around._ I'm honestly more interested in how you've managed around here all this time – with _Philippa_ no less." Ciri laughed like mad, and Yen allowed a small smirk to take over her features. At least someone appreciated her quick tongue.

However, Ciri wouldn't let the matter rest, and only after Yennefer had divulged to her the majority of her travels did she even begin to describe court life. And very moodily, might Yen add.

For a moment a little girl sat in the place of the rogue Empress, reminding Yen of the long days at Kaer Morhen when all she heard throughout the halls was Ciri complaining about the multitude of readings Vesemir had assigned to her.

Finally, after complaining about all the poofy dresses she had to wear, and explaining that Philippa _wasn't that bad_ once you got past her – well, a lot of her – there was a lull in the conversation, but before Yen could say anything more she saw a gentle blush come over Ciri's cheeks.

Never one to beat around the bush, she looked directly into Yennefer's eyes and declared she was being courted by an adventurer she had met. He was passing through Vizima proper while she was hiding from her various court advisors and no, she did not mind one bit, because he happened to be very witty and handsome and kind. Yen smiled gently, pulling Ciri close to her so they could whisper about her new beau.

She would never admit it, but she missed when Ciri thought boys were 'icky'.

As night fell over them, Ciri left her so she could finish unpacking and become truly settled, promising to find her sometime tomorrow (if she didn't wring a courtier's neck first, of course). Yen laughed at that, watching Ciri's retreating form down the hallway before closing her door soundly.

She found respite in the fact that Ciri never mentioned _him._

And then all of sudden the ache she thought had disappeared was back. Geralt was gone. Ciri was no longer the child she remembered – she was a young woman, grown, no longer in need of a mother. She sat down, her back pressed roughly against the ornate door, and allowed herself to cry for the first time since Geralt had rebuffed her, hoping to somehow relieve the anxiety threatening to drown her.

 _The magick's gone._

It obviously did not help, she mused, as the tears only flowed more freely since then.

The months ticked by slowly for the great sorceress of Vengerberg. Philippa ensured that she had no place in Vizima's court, not that she was complaining – she had planned to get away from politics for the rest of her days, and _escape_ , but her restlessness had brought her back to the last place she thought she would be needed, or wanted.

But even Ciri had stopped visiting as often as she once did, although to no fault of her own - spending a multitude of her days preparing to receive her title and coronation, and reserving the rest of her time to her now betrothed. It strained even Yennefer to see her make time for the sorceress between the rest of her hectic schedule, always tired and always a little more grumpy than the last time she visited.

She was no longer needed, in many senses of the word, and wasted her days' away reading romance novellas that made her cringe or sweeping her way through the halls of the royal palace, ghost-like and ethereal. Yennefer just… _was._

"Why did I ever return here?" She mused quietly, watching Ciri enter the courtyard far below her window, a cloak trying to hide her features as she quickly sat down on a bench hidden under the shadows of the new sun peaking over the horizon. It was not long before a young man came to sit beside her, and she was whisked away in his arms. Yen smiled gently, and wondered when she had become so gods damned soft.

 _Let Lambert see me now._

She pushed away from the window sill, looking around her room. Almost two years, and she was not content. No, she had not been content far longer than that, she was certain; itching with a need for something, but she was not certain what. She hurriedly rushed to her desk, flipping through piles of papers before finding the one she hoped she had kept.

Unfolding the map, she stared at it for a moment, hesitating only slightly before tracing her fingers across the intricate lines and ridges inked onto the parchment's surface. No roads lay before her - just open land, water, and mountains.

Perhaps she did not go far enough the first time around – perhaps she could travel father, into the north, past the borders of Kaedwen and Redania, like she had wished to do so long ago before the Djinn had broken its hold over her and the Wolf had scattered her dreams to the wind.

 _Away._ She smiled to herself. Away sounded perfect. She imagined the green of grass, the smell of spring playing with her senses, a clear sky with no clouds in sight – or even a storm, snow surrounding her in a maelstrom, taking its hold over her as she had no choice but to play to its whims. Perhaps on untouched fields and in cool rivers no man had touched would she be able to forget about amber cat-eyes.

 **-oooooo-**

She was ready, all her magickal belongings and dresses packed into trunks neatly placed near her room's entrance, a thick travelling cloak waiting to be used placed over the untouched sheets of her former bed. The only thing missing was her megascope, and she had already starting taking it apart carefully and placing it into its own special case.

"…Yennefer?" A teary voice called from behind her, and she turned around quickly to see her beautiful Cirilla sniffling, her tears red rimmed from crying and sounding as if her world had just shattered.

Yennefer rushed to her side, picking her up in a tight embrace and smoothing down her hair, like she always would. Ciri held onto her tightly, letting tears run anew down her face.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" She asked, muffled as she nuzzled herself into Yen's shoulder, her grip fierce and tight on her mother.

"Yes, I am," Yen replied calmly, placing her cheek on top of Ciri's head, allowing herself the comfort of holding her one last time. She wasn't returning, of that she was certain, and she hoped with all her heart Ciri would not hate her for it.

Suddenly she pushed away, her eyes fierce and unyielding, "How could you? _Leave_? Without even telling me? I had to- had to hear it from _Emreis_ that you were planning to leave, and I find you here almost out the door!" Tears were running freely down her face, her voice angry and hurt. Yennefer watched her, tears pricking at the corners of her own eyes. This was so _hard,_ her heart aching anew again, but she had to do it.

"I'm so sorry, Ciri. I never meant to hurt you, I thought it would be – _easier_ -" _easier for me to leave you behind._

She crumpled onto the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, hiding her face between them, "You and Geralt-" her voice broke over his name, "Both left and – and then you came _back_ and I thought you were going to stay for good! I was so happy that you were back, it could be just like old times, except just you and me," She looked up at Yen, "Please don't leave," she whimpered, and Yen again saw the little girl she had raised as her own.

But she wasn't so little anymore, she was a woman, a life moving before her that the Raven had no place in, and Yen dropped down onto the floor beside her, taking her into her arms again. Ciri shook in her arms, and Yen let out her own sob, whispering muffled ' _sorrys_ ' into her shoulder, unsure of what else to say.

They sobbed together, until Ciri pulled away enough to look Yennefer in the eyes. They always were women of few words, and only once she was satisfied with what she saw in violet depths did she speak again.

"You really have to go?" Yen nodded, "You're never coming back, are you?" At that, Yen shook her head.

"I'm not leaving, not really. I'll always be here," She pointed to Cirilla's heart, "Whenever you need me, I'll be there."

Ciri scoffed, relaxing slightly, "You sorceresses, always so gods damn _vague._ "

Yen let out a soft laugh, and then there was a pause as they took each other in, "You've become a beautiful woman, Cirilla, strong and kind. You don't need me anymore, and…"

" _You're_ not happy," Ciri concluded, "And you must be serious, you never use my full name."

She sniffled a little, "No, I'm not. Not of your fault, I just need to… go," she finished, quite lamely.

Ciri stood up, picking up Yen with her, bringing her into another embrace, much softer than when she first entered Yen's room, "It's okay, I understand. It doesn't mean I like it though. But I think I do understand. I would… I would want to leave, too," they both understood the implications of her words, "If you ever wish to return, I'll make sure you have a luxurious suite and at least three consorts of the highest calibre awaiting."

Yen pulled away, a wicked smile dancing on her lips, "Thank you."

She knew she would never be back. How could she return? But she refused new tears to well, and instead allowed herself to believe Ciri's words. That she would be back, perhaps to see Cirilla down the aisle, returning to a life of court intrigue…

Ciri giggled lightly, "Look at us, two crones crying over each other like babbling fools."

Yen laughed, a true and teary sound, "As it should be." She pinched her cheek lightly, and Ciri shied away from the touch, making Yen laugh once more.

Yennefer of Vengerberg turned away from her ward – her daughter – and pulled on her travelling cloak of thick dark wool. She turned back to Ciri once more, placing a small bauble in her hand and closing her fist around the object.

"I'll always be here," she whispered, eyes full of yearning and excitement and need, and with one more wistful smile, she turned to her open window and flew out into the open sky, dawn rising with the Raven's confident wing strokes, never looking back although Ciri wished she would. Just once more.

Ciri ran to the window to watch her go, a silhouette of black against orange and indigo, until she was naught but a tiny speck on the horizon, heading far into the north. She opened her palm to see the small replica skull of the very bird finding her way across the horizon, never to return.

Ciri allowed herself a small smile before willing herself to not cry again, turning her back to the window, returning to the duties of an Empress.

"Once you are finished wandering, you will always have a home here, Yennefer of Vengerberg."

 **A/N:** _I had this idea running around my head for a bit, before I finally decided to type it out, and I'm really happy with it. Please let me know what you think, I would love to see what you all think of this! :) I hope I got Yen's emotions across pretty well, and all the details as well :3_

 **Edited:** _January 28_ _th_ _, 2016_


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